Close Enough To Touch Close Enough 1 – Rex Sterling

I came like a bomb, everything exploding at once, thick, hot jets flooding her pussy. The spasm was so intense I saw white, felt my hips buck, every nerve ending on fire. Jordan let out a savage cry as her own orgasm hit, squeezing my cock so hard I thought she’d rip it off. She came, and kept coming, head thrown back, the cords in her neck standing out.

Her cunt milked me, sucked me dry, every pulse wringing another spurt from me, more than I thought I had in me. Our bodies slammed together, stuck with sweat and cum, melting into the wood slats. Jordan clung to me, riding out every aftershock. Her pussy was still contracting, squeezing, drawing it out. She collapsed against me, face buried in my chest, gasping for air, hair wild and tangled.

I wrapped my arms around her and just held on, letting the world slow back to a crawl. The heat was overwhelming, the room spinning. My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt empty and full at the same time, like she’d drained every last drop and left something else inside me in its place. Jordan finally looked up, eyes glassy but still fierce.

She grinned, wiped sweat from her brow, and didn’t move to get off my lap. Instead she just ground against me, drawing out the last traces of pleasure. Aftershocks rippled through both of us. Jordan barely slowed, her pussy still fluttering around my cock, milking every last drop. She slumped, chest heaving, tits pressed against my face as she held me close. I kissed her collarbone, licked up a drop of sweat, and let the moment settle.

For a while, there was only breathing, the sound of our heartbeats, and the burn of the sauna. Jordan finally pulled back, looked at the mess we’d made, and grinned. She swiped her thumb over my chin, then kissed me, slow and honest. “You’re a menace,” she whispered, sinking onto the bench beside me. “But I think I needed that more than air.”

I laughed, still dazed. “Didn’t know I could get this fucked up on heat and pheromones alone.” We sat there, tangled and sticky and perfectly alive. Eventually, the world cooled enough to move. Jordan reached for her towel, half-assed an attempt at modesty. “Shower?” she suggested, voice hopeful.

I stood, my knees still shaking, and led her out. The glass door slammed the humidity back into place, but the memory of her body, the taste of her sweat, the way she’d demanded every drop, I’d never forget it. Next stop: the showers, and whatever came after. *** If the sauna was hell, the showers were purgatory, a brief stop on the road to either redemption or relapse. I led Jordan through the changing area and into the tiled shower zone.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [email protected]. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious.

No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. 1kitap1.com/en Contents 1. Move-In Ready 2. Setting Up Shop 3. Midnight Visitor 4. New Beginnings 5. Design Partnership 6. Deepening Trust 7. Coming Clean 8. Open House 9. Hot Box 10. First Round Draft Pick 11. Illumination 12. Bad News 13. Lakeside Cabin 14. Blondes Have More Fun 15. Club Royalty 16. Morning After 17. Star Spangled Harem 18. Treasure Trove 19. Movie Night Madness Also by Rex Sterling 1kitap1.com/en I Chapter One Move-In Ready was on my hands and knees, brush loaded up with paint, finishing the last three feet of that accent wall in a moody slate gray.

My shirt was stuck to my lower back with sweat, the early May heat already seeping through the massive windows despite the morning breeze. The scent hit me first, the sharp, chemical tang of paint cut with the fainter trace of drywall dust and oak from the newly installed shelving. I sat back on my heels and let the brush fall into a plastic tray. Above me, shafts of late afternoon sun blasted through those massive factory windows, glass panes taller than I was, streaked with decades of grit on the outside but polished to a shine within arm’s reach.

The light threw bold, angular shadows over the concrete floors, making the whole place look like a magazine spread. Not bad for a structure that had been one decent windstorm away from collapse the winter before last. Most people would’ve called what I had a luxury loft. I still saw the bones: exposed brick, ceiling beams original to 1912, and scars on the concrete from a hundred years of neglected industry. My grandfather would’ve called it character. I liked to think I’d added a bit of my own.

That thought barely had time to settle before Ryan’s boots started pounding up the new oak stairs.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 60c16cdef40ae393
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,448,392 bytes (2.335 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 285
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 507.79 minutes
• Total Words: 101,557
• Total Characters: 565,983
• Average Words per Page: 356.34
• Average Characters per Page: 1985.91

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